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<h1><a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/26703160">Fickle Wilds</a> by <a class='authorlink' href='https://archiveofourown.org/users/selcouthcowboy/pseuds/selcouthcowboy'>selcouthcowboy</a></h1>

<table class="full">

<tr><td><b>Category:</b></td><td>Original Work</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Genre:</b></td><td>Breeding Kink, Eventual Happy Ending, Eventual Romance, Eventual Smut, F/M, First Time, God Falls In Love With Mortal and Has No Idea What He's Getting Himself Into, God/Mortal Pairing, Human/Monster Romance, Implied/Referenced Child Abuse, Implied/Referenced Rape/Non-con, Loosely Based In Reality But Don't Look Too Hard At It, Loss of Virginity, Middle Ages, Monster sex, Mythology - Freeform, Original Character(s), Original Fiction, Period Typical Attitudes, Possessive Behavior, Praise Kink, Predator/Prey, Pregnancy Kink, Shapeshifting, Slow Build, Sort Of, Tags May Change, Vague Fantasy Setting, Virginity Kink, We're Talking Years Here, Why Aren't There Any Tags For Immortal/Human Pairings, Will update warning tags as i go but for now just assume that we're talkin typical 18+ fantasy stuff, medieval setting</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Language:</b></td><td>English</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Status:</b></td><td>In-Progress</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Published:</b></td><td>2020-09-28</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Updated:</b></td><td>2020-10-15</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Packaged:</b></td><td>2021-05-06 06:00:20</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Rating:</b></td><td>Explicit</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Warnings:</b></td><td>Graphic Depictions Of Violence</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Chapters:</b></td><td>7</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Words:</b></td><td>14,789</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Publisher:</b></td><td>archiveofourown.org</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Story URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/works/26703160</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Author URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/users/selcouthcowboy/pseuds/selcouthcowboy</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Summary:</b></td><td><div class="userstuff">
              <p>*i was augustuswriting, am now selcouthcowboy*</p><p>Aspen is the youngest daughter of a farmer, born to poverty and doomed to spend a mediocre life as the fifth wife to some old pig farmer, to thanklessly raise children and die shortly afterwards. Such is the way in the province of Ossingard, where the poor toil while the local lords reap the spoils of its rolling hills and dense forests. Shortly after her coming of age, she is approached by Kallos, a long-forgotten god of all wild and living things. Fate has dealt her a unique hand, to be the consort of an immortal. It's a blessing and a curse; those favoured by any deity often rise to power and renown beyond their wildest, most feverish daydreams, in exchange for one thing: bear the children that will one day be gods themselves, when the time of their fathers have passed. Kallos is determined to do things differently than his predecessor: instead of taking what he pleases by force, he will win Aspen over. Each will have to answer to the unseen hand that guides even the most insignificant of gods, and the most determined of mortals.</p>
            </div></td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Relationships:</b></td><td>Aspen of Ossingard (OC)/Kallos of the Wilds (OC)</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Comments:</b></td><td>2</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Kudos:</b></td><td>29</td></tr>

</table>

<a name="section0001"><h2>1. The Clearing</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
      <p>2020-11-17: i'm taking a break from writing for now due to mental health stuff. i'll be back soon, thank you for reading!</p>
    </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>Like a sunrise, she shone whether the world wanted her to or not. She was a peasant girl in a Northern kingdom; her kind built temples to mine made of stone and gold. A goddess for the harvest, a god for war, and even the forgotten ones like myself. They called us names in their own languages, and our worship spread with their soldiers and their diplomats, their cities and their ships. Humankind journeyed to the far reaches of the earth, and it was my turn to rule the domain of the places still untouched. I am the god of the wilds, and I have fallen in love with a mortal.</p><p>“You will leave me be,” she commanded through tears. The other girls in her village had teased her for her wide nose and knobbly knees; they were right, but I wouldn’t ever tell her. She was awkward and stout, half raw edges and half pudgy and pink. The girl wiped her ruddy nose on her wrist, sniffling in vain as a new wave of tears poured from under her eyelashes. “Go on, shoo!”</p><p>I pouted next to her, taking a form she was familiar with. One that wouldn’t scare her. A fox, with red fur and triangle-shaped ears that flicked at the slightest sound. I sat on my hind legs, with my front paws planted firmly on the log we shared, deep within the run of the forest near her home. She had never been afraid of the thick swaths of trees and rustling of the wind within them. This was more her home than the shack her family kept, a household of seven children with her as the youngest. Older brothers died in wars, an older sister married already. The middle brother worked his father’s fields fruitlessly. The two before her were twins, a boy and a girl. Nearly took their mother out of this world as they came into it. Her father never forgave them for it. She died soon after Aspen was born, nearly 18 years ago to the day. Her father followed close behind.</p><p>“I know you can hear me, silly pup, now get!” she tossed a callused hand at me, sending fiery locks of hair flying around her head. Her fair skin was dotted with deep, thick freckles that looked as if they gilded her in the late afternoon sunlight. The grove was quiet, apart from her sobbing.</p><p>I stood slowly, enough to let her keep my gaze before scampering off into the bushes surrounding her hiding spot. I waited a moment, letting her feel truly alone as I shedded the illusion of the small woodland animal, opting to shift into a form that she wouldn’t be able to see. I felt a small, foreign pang of guilt as I watched her without her knowing. She should be given the opportunity to choose, it’s only fair. My peers wouldn’t agree, and to a certain extent, I didn’t either. I could deal in absolutes, wielding power like an axe, but something about her made it complicated. Every higher power has their favorites.</p><p>I exhaled deeply, causing the winds to rustle the leaves over her head and add their song to the orchestra of the woods. I waited a moment before letting the gust die down just as she wrapped her arms around her bare shoulders. It was late summer, and a simple smock with large sleeves and a wide neck topped with an embroidered apron was all that stood between her and the air around her. Between her and I. The dress had several owners before it came to her, and its colors had faded and its hems had torn. Perhaps I’ll start there, something small.</p><p>“I don’t want to frighten you,” I said softly, shifting into a more pleasing form. Something whimsical, her kind would call it a “satyr.” The visage of a young, human man with the lower body of a goat would be what she sees, instead of the unfathomable, unyielding face of an immortal.</p><p>“I’m not in the mood for more cruel jokes, Anya, leave me alone,” she hadn’t made to face me yet. Aspen’s characteristic harsh expression was turned away from me, thick red brows no doubt furrowed as far as was possible and dark brown eyes alight with disdain.</p><p>“Forgive me, but I think you have me confused with someone else,” I responded, trying to be as gentle as possible. The voices of mortals are often so expressive, their physiology making the volume hard to control.</p><p>“Perhaps you should also leave, th-” Aspen’s snarky response was cut off as she bit down. Her eyes widened like a doe and her mouth pursed slightly. Her eyes, puffy from crying, journeyed from my face to my bare chest, then to the fur on my legs, and the hooves at the end of them. I stood just under a head taller than her, enough to have to look down at her as she stood. She rose to bare feet, the hem of her dress barely meeting her shins.</p><p>“How long have you been standing there?” I didn’t fault her for her caution, instead, I granted her a smile.</p><p>“Only a moment,” I lied, “I couldn’t help but notice you were upset, perhaps you’d like some company?”</p><p>“From a fae? I don’t think so. Leave me be, pixie.” </p><p>Her snarl wasn’t as scary as she hoped it was. Her face, ruddy and blotchy from crying, was drawn into a scowl. I pondered for a moment on how I would subvert her defenses. I wouldn’t do anything she didn’t want, unlike my peers. Such animosity was below me. I would win her over.</p><p>“Not a fae nor a pixie, I promise you,” I began, circling around the edge of the clearing to reveal the path back to the village behind me. Her eyes flicked to it, but she didn’t run. A good sign - one I took in stride. Any of her skin that was visible was bathed in an afternoon glow, the sun playing in her red, frizzy hair like a halo. “I mean you no harm.”</p><p>Aspen considered this for a moment, looking for any indicators of dishonesty on my face. There were none, not that she would be able to tell. My form is exactly how I tell it to be. Her curious eyes wander upon it as she thinks, failing to hide her interest.</p><p>“Very well, what is your name?” she lilted, sniffling once before the corners of her lips began to lift. I admittedly hadn’t thought that far. A name is important. A name has meaning, even if it’s accidental. The log she was sitting on now occupied the space between us, and she stood just out of arm’s reach. I had an inkling that she had pieced together that I wasn’t part of her world. Not directly, at least. I couldn’t yet tell if she was okay with that or not.</p><p>“What would you like to call me?” I asked finally, smirking slightly to ease some tension. It only created more. I wanted to give her a choice. I wanted her to fold into me. She thought for a moment, conjuring from deep in her imagination a suitable name. I was surprised by her answer.</p><p>“Kallos, if it pleases you, pixie,” her face gave away every inch of pride she felt at the jest. Kallos was a foreign name, one from the mythos of a far away place. A place I knew she had never been to. It described the bearer as pleasing to look at, which she found humorous given my current form.</p><p>“Where, I wonder, have you heard that name before?” I cooed, taking half a step towards her. She looked indignant, but didn’t back away. I could smell the sweat on her skin, and the dirt under her nails. Aspen took her time responding, as she always did.</p><p>“I heard one of the merchants that came to port use it, I thought it was pretty.”</p><p>“So it is,” I agreed. I’ve had worse names, one for every spoken language, and some in languages never spoken at all. My domain is as old as there has been untouched forests and untilled soil. I was born to a woman not unlike Aspen, approached by a god and asked to bear his children. I was raised to be king of all wild things, like my father before me. I see something wild in the young woman now, as she sits upon the rotting log, her back facing the path away from the grove. Her bare feet dangled a little bit off the forest floor, barely grazing the dewy grass.</p><p>“What is it you want, then? If you’re not a pixie or a fae,” Aspen spoke casually, but her tone challenged me. She wanted to feel as if she had the upper hand, and I was happy to let her. Her previous sour mood was only a ghost upon her plump face now, her nose just a little flushed from sniffling.</p><p>“I only wished to improve your mood, and judging by the smirk on your face, it seems I’ve accomplished my task. I will take my leave-”</p><p>“No! I mean,” Aspen cleared her throat, “I just wanted to know more about you. I’ve only ever met other humans.”</p><p>“Do other humans not interest you?” I asked, knowing the answer.</p><p>“No,” she began, blushing just a touch, “you interest me quite a bit, though.”</p><p>This answer surprised me. I must have looked visibly confused, because she only giggled. A nerve in my chest constricted slightly, my corporeal form betraying what I felt.</p><p>“Does this make you uncomfortable, satyr?” Aspen questioned before I had fully recovered. Admittedly, I hadn’t spent much time around mortals until that day. They’re more clever than they look.</p><p>“Uncomfortable, no,” my attention was briefly bought by the rise and fall of her chest, her shoulders pulling the seams of her tunic tight to her body. “Though you have surprised me.”</p><p>“What isn’t interesting about you already? Especially because you think I’m completely stupid, or perhaps I have no peripheral vision. I saw your form change shape from an adorable little fox to a silly little goat man. For a god, you are incredibly dim-witted.”</p><p>She had me cornered, and here I thought I was going to draw her in slowly. Tell her when she was already enamoured by my...well, good looks? Charming demeanor? Her wit had bested me, and I surrendered, sighing loudly.</p><p>“So, what? Are you going to take me over this tree stump by force? Fill me full of your children and leave me for dead when your scorned wife comes and opens my throat in the dead of night, or turns me into a horrible monster?”</p><p>“Are these the stories you’ve heard about me? Do you know who I even am?” My exasperation made Aspen giggle, a sound as intoxicating as the look on her face; she was successful in toying with me. No wonder she refused to make friends of her own kind, they couldn’t keep up with her.</p><p>“So you are here to take my maidenhead? Shall I bend over for you, or would you like to toss me around yourself?” A primal urge inside of me wanted to call her bluff. I ignored it, instead opting to change forms again, this time in plain view. As close to a human as I was comfortable appearing, but with a few minor modifications.</p><p>“The horns are a nice touch,” she commented, blinking slightly as her mind wrapped around the magic she had witnessed. I added a leather kilt around my middle to maintain some modesty. If she decided to act on what was underneath, it would be her choice.</p><p>“I’m glad you like them,” I bowed slightly, before folding onto the ground in front of her with crossed legs. She now looked down at me, taking in what I assumed she would consider pleasing. A broad torso and strong arms, messy brown hair, and dark, thick lashes over unnatural, yellow-gold eyes. They were my signature, I couldn’t resist.</p><p>“You haven’t answered my question,” Aspen pointed out over the sounds of nature around us, the afternoon waning quickly.</p><p>“Hmm? Oh, if I intend to, how did you say it? Take you by force?” I raised an eyebrow, watching her face for any fear. There was none. “Not unless you’d like it to feel that way. In fact, it doesn’t have to be you at all. I could easily have picked any other creature on this earth to mount, as my peers so often do. I just happen to like you best.”</p><p>Deities of all imaginable creeds, in every conceivable world, have stories written of them descending from the heavens and reaping the bounties they had sown by sticking their cocks in something. Their victims forgotten by name, only their sons become kings and gods themselves. I didn’t blame her for her caution. She thought on this for a moment, before questioning me again.</p><p>“So if I refuse, you’ll leave me be?”</p><p>“I will,” I agreed. She seemed satisfied with this, though I could have easily lied. It was endearing that she trusted me, somehow it solidified my choice. I would have her love, I decided.</p><p>“I ask again, what do you want with me? Answer me clearly.”</p><p>“For now, I only ask to visit you again, say, before the harvest?” It was midsummer now, she would be kept busy with the tending of her brother’s crops until then. </p><p>“How do I know you’re not playing a trick on me?” her words betrayed her bruised heart for the first time, peeking gently through the wall she had built around herself. “How will I know to meet you?”</p><p>“I will see you here, when the moon is full again. Or I won’t, if you decide not to show. I will have your answer either way, as you’ll have mine,” I offered a smile, one that she returned. Her lips were dry, and her freckles danced in the waning sunlight.</p><p>“Will you grant me a kiss, silly goat man?” she asked finally, playfully grinning as she stood to leave the clearing. Her auburn waves were tangled around her plump face, but I could still see her blush.</p><p>“If that would please you,” I conceded, expecting her to approach me as I stood to match her. Instead, she pranced forward, before flicking my nose hard on the tip, taking off down the path towards the village immediately afterwards. I listened to her laugh drift away, and found myself laughing along. Aspen was clever, however odd and complex, and I would make her mine.</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0002"><h2>2. The Well</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Summary for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
            <p>An incident at the town well is the deciding factor. Kallos and Aspen meet again under the harvest moon.</p>
          </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>It wasn’t unheard of, gods taking company with mortals. It seems that every century I read about in the books I borrowed from the apothecary down the road had tales of a handful of lucky mortals being favoured by beings with immense, unfathomable power. The current king of Ossingard, the highland province that held the backwater hamlet I called home, was said to be descended from the son of Kratos; a fitting bloodline for a ruthless, warmongering hound of a man. His wars drained the land of coin and food, and it was the villages like my own, Falkbend, that suffered the most.</p>
<p>With a bucket balanced on my hips, I made my way down to the well. Falkbend consisted of a main road littered with shops, which ended in a roundabout containing a cobbled well and a small market. The fringes of town held farms like my brother’s, as well as a handful of monasteries and a single estate, home to a reclusive artisan. From the hilltop where the main road started, I could see the grand home sitting on the opposite side of the sloping valley, just barely peeking through the trees that surrounded it. Autumn had arrived on a brisk wind, and she wasted no time turning the leaves from their usual green to the warm, fiery oranges and reds that heralded winter’s approach. I pondered on the manor’s inhabitant to distract me from the sideways glances and apprehensive greetings I received while passing by the waning populus of Falkbend; I wondered what it would feel like to live so far away from those who gossip about you. I’ve not been afforded that luxury.</p>
<p>“Have you gotten fatter, somehow?” the local taxman’s daughter, Anya, jeered from her usual spot leaning up against the shallow well as I approached. “Your perverted brother must truly be planning to roast you and eat you like one of his pigs.”</p>
<p>The other girl next to her, Samika, snickered from under a gnarled, upturned nose. It was no secret that her father used to beat her. The fact that she killed him while he slept was even less covert. I rolled my eyes in response, plucking a stray leaf out of the cooped bucket before dunking it into the well, pulling it full from the water and making to leave.</p>
<p>“Tell me, pigpen, why is it that you haven’t been married off yet?” Anya pressed, following me as I started up the dirt road, back towards the farmhouse with the heavy bucket in tow. “I heard that the drover was looking for a third wife. I’m sure you’d only be a little uglier than the others.”</p>
<p>Samika slithered forward, catching stride with me as I sped up. She was a lithe little thing, all slenderness and velvet complexion. She hadn’t lifted a finger since her mother had married a guildsman from the next village over, a detail that her pale skin and uncalloused hands betrayed. Her thin lips donned an indulgent grin as she watched my brow furrow.</p>
<p>“Is it true that your brother has already fucked you? Perhaps that’s why you’ve gotten so wide, I heard that inbred babes are fatter tha-”</p>
<p>“Is it true that your husband hasn’t spent a night with you since the alderman’s wife began “inspecting” the tavern during the evening? Your bed must be awfully cold, Samika.” I snapped, breathless as the hill got steeper. My bare feet slid slightly on the damp dirt, and the cold breeze slicked away the sweat from my brow. “I would say that you’ve also gotten fatter, but I don’t think he could ever have breached your frigid cunt to make any use of it-”</p>
<p>“You wicked little bitch!” Samika interjected, whipping her head around to Anya, who had begun to keep pace with me on my right side. The two girls sandwiched me, cackling at their own japes as I ignored them. Anya sneered from under messy black bangs as her friend elbowed me in the shoulder, hoping to knock me off balance.</p>
<p>“I tell you what, piggie-” Anya clicked her tongue at me as the cluster of buildings disappeared behind us. My brother’s farm folded out in front of us at the end of the road. “If you tell me how many times your brothers have filled you, I’ll help you find a match befitting your...station. Does that sound fair?”</p>
<p>A burning feeling pricked at the corners of my eyes. I was determined to keep my gaze forward, towards the old farmhouse and away from their teasing. They couldn’t have known I buried my brother a week prior, I kept his death to myself. Easier to let go without the shame or pity of others. Their cruelty didn’t matter, neither did their gossiping or their more fortunate upbringings. Tonight was the harvest moon, and Kallos would change everything.</p>
<p>I left Anya and Samika cackling and howling like coyotes at their teasing of me at the start of the path up to the house. It was built several generations ago, and its thatched roof and hewn walls were askew from years of wind and winters. The structure creaked and groaned in the breeze, and the door squeaked along when I booted it open, nearly kicking it off the rusting hinges. The inside of the shack was dark, and smelled vaguely of mildew. After Hristofer died, I sold everything I could that belonged to my family. Ghosts of distant relatives and long-dead siblings in exchange for a handful of copper coins, no longer insulating the sound of my footsteps from echoing off of empty shelves and dusty cabinets. I heated the water I had gathered over a dying fire in the hearth, before adding it to the old wooden tub in the bedroom and undressing. A silver mirror in the corner betrayed my reflecting to me; a thinning, tired-looking creature with dull, frizzy hair and awkward, knobbly knees looked back at me. I baked the image of my reflection into the back of my mind: I will not die starving, I will not die in this old house.</p>
<p>Kallos instructed me to go to him when the moon was full; it felt like eons since our first meeting. He was a stranger creature than I, one that could shape himself into anything he liked. I recalled his last form, a handsome figure with a face like the statues I had seen in the Temple of Thousands. My older sister was lucky enough to wed under the temple’s grand, vaulted ceilings and detailed mosaics, and it was the first and only time I had left Falkbend. Memories of the winding cobbled streets and massive, intricately-designed buildings of Ossingard’s capital city were what made the years since so bearable. I thought one day, I might be lucky enough to visit again. Now, I felt myself teeter on the cusp of something better. Something more ambitious.</p>
<p>Bathed, dressed, and my hair brushed until it shone, I set out for the clearing. The evening had arrived swiftly, and brought with her a crisp wind that smelled like winter. Even my best dress was far too short for me, and my ankles stung in the cold. I cursed myself for not bringing a lantern as I reached the treeline, squinting as I navigated the narrow path towards the grove. Despite the cold, the forest was as welcoming as ever; dressed in reds and oranges, instead of its usual rich greens. Most folk avoided Ossingard’s old forests, for fear of ancient spirits or leftover magic from when the gods roamed our lands freely. If I had known how accurate those fears were, perhaps I would have stayed away.</p>
<p>He wasn’t there when I arrived. The rotting log I usually sat on was still installed in the centre of the grove, and I sunk onto it slowly as I waited for Kallos to show himself. I felt the need to cry suddenly, as I listened to the sound of the wind whipping through the trees. Perhaps he wouldn’t show, or had found another to fulfill his needs. I felt silly for believing in his promise, and even more silly for waiting for what felt like an hour without a hint of him. No woodland animal nor handsome, horned man had appeared even as the sky became nearly black directly above me. I crossed my arms, resisting the urge to sleep or sob as another hour passed. The moon had come and gone by now, her large face rising and falling beyond the rolling hills of Falkbend. I rose to my feet, struggling to keep my eyelids from drooping as the deep night settled in.</p>
<p>“I’m late, aren’t I?” Kallos’ rustic voice penetrated the stiff air of the clearing. My head snapped to the location of the sound, to find him leaning against the trunk of an old oak, thick arms crossed against his chest. He looked different this time, his skin covered in strange markings, and his hair a deep, rich near-black. He wore a set of hide trousers that were nearly as dark as his surroundings, with a belt that was decorated in various beads and tassels of wood and leather. A dense, imposing sheepskin adorned his shoulders, but his chest was bare, as were his feet. His eyes were the same - sharp and unsettling gold. Ram’s horns created a spiral on each side of his head the size of dinner plates, completing the terrifying array. I stepped back slightly, more frightened by his expression than his appearance: hunger.</p>
<p>“O-only a little,” I managed to respond, my heart jumping at his movement as he entered the clearing, standing across from me. Like last time, he didn’t block the exit. I wasn’t sure he wouldn’t enjoy the chase though, if I decided to run from him.</p>
<p>“Do I frighten you now, little wolf?” his voice was like warm honey dripping from a sharp knife. It comforted me at the same time that it intimidated me, and I wasn’t sure which sensation was winning. “After you were so brave when we first met…”</p>
<p>“I’m not a wolf,” I whined, a nerve in my chest taking hold of my throat. A twig snapped under my feet as I took another step back.</p>
<p>“Not yet, perhaps. But you did come here willingly, so not a doe, nor a hare.”</p>
<p>Kallos’ growl made my spine feel like liquid, and there was something about the way he smelled too - like burning pine needles and the scent of fresh leather.</p>
<p>“Will you tell me what you want from me?” My voice rang across the clearing, stronger than I felt and angrier than I meant.</p>
<p>“You’re clever, for a mortal. I’m sure you’ve figured it ou-”</p>
<p>I scowled hard, glaring up at his proud face to display my sudden wave of frustration.</p>
<p>“I want you to say it out loud.”</p>
<p>This surprised him. I exchanged my furrowed brows for raised ones as he crumpled slightly, sighing shyly at my demand. It wasn’t unreasonable, at least I didn’t think so.</p>
<p>“You never told me your name,” he deflected, circling around the log between us. I matched his movements, allowing him to chase me.</p>
<p>“I didn’t think I had to.”</p>
<p>“I’d like you to,” his voice betrayed a sliver of some distant feeling, but it wasn’t defeat. Nor embarrassment, as his characteristic smirk returned. Under thick lips, his teeth looked awfully sharp. He made sure I noticed.</p>
<p>“You may call me Aspen, if I may know your intentions,” I smirked back, fighting a shiver as the wind picked up and began to bite through my kirtle. It must be nearing midnight now, and I could have sworn that Kallos’ hair became blacker to match the sky above. No fae I had ever heard of could do that.</p>
<p>The immortal closed the gap between us slowly, and I cursed to myself as the skin on my chest tightened in response. Even from arm’s length, the heat from his body was like that of a hearth, and the smell drifting from his skin was intoxicating. I didn’t dare break away from his gaze.</p>
<p>“I intend to take that kiss you promised,” Kallos purred, moving closer still. I had time to object, and I still let him bring his lips to mine in a swift movement. He tasted like smoke from a campfire and fresh rosemary, and his sharp teeth made my blood rip through my body as they grazed my lower lip. I was breathless after a second, and he only lingered a moment after that before pulling away. I panted slightly, a detail that he took notice of. His hands had stayed politely away from my skin until after he had his, he then brought them up to trace a line up each of my arms, stopping absently at the fraying seams of my sleeves.</p>
<p>“Do you intend to bed me now?” the question shook on its way out of my lips, slicing through the silence in the grove.</p>
<p>“No.”</p>
<p>“But that is what you want?”</p>
<p>Another quiet moment, before Kallos spoke again.</p>
<p>“I, like my predecessor before me, will eventually need an heir. An heir that needs to come from someone with the right… components,” he implied that gods couldn’t mate with their peers. I don’t quite know why this was a surprise to me.</p>
<p>“And what makes you think I’m that someone?”</p>
<p>“You can refuse, just as you could have stayed away tonight,” Kallos growled, brow furrowing after I interrupted him. “I am no monster.”</p>
<p>“You’re no slaver, you mean,” I corrected. I recalled the story of Kemora, the eldest daughter of a king several generations ago. She was labeled a heretic and a madwoman because she told her court that she had been forced upon by a masked demon; a spitting image of a deity her father had denounced. Her son was the first to sail the western strait, and was described to be a beast of a man nearly seven feet tall. A monster gave that child to her, but he at least didn’t keep her under lock and key. Kallos didn’t ask what I was thinking, but I knew that he understood my caution.</p>
<p>“And if I accept this life, being your consort?”</p>
<p>“I will give you what I can to make it worth your while. Riches, land, you could even marry if you chose to. All I ask for is an offspring, if you have no wishes to see me beyond that, I will respect your decision.”</p>
<p>This was very strange to me, and certainly not what I had expected. I had anticipated something...else. Something rougher. Instead, Kallos peered down at me over high cheekbones, a solemn smile in his eyes. He was still less than an arms length away from me, following my subtle gaze to the ground as I considered his words. There was nothing left for me in Falkbend, and certainly nothing for me anywhere else that wasn’t a marriage to a man thrice my age and an early death. I could sell my body on the streets of Osthaven some three months travel east, or work as a maid to some fat alderman until he too loses all his coin and fighting men to the king’s levies and taxes. I could return to the farmhouse, sustain myself on the rest of the preserves my mother stored away decades ago until I could start again in the spring.</p>
<p>“Do we have a deal?” Kallos was patient in tone, but something about his body language made me feel like he could unhinge his jaw and swallow me whole.</p>
<p>“You never told me what domain you held,” I stated simply, looking back up to meet Kallos’ intense yellow eyes.</p>
<p>“I...what?”</p>
<p>“Your domain, your patronage, what realm you preside over,” my explanation resulted in his brow furrowing again, this time in thought, before his face relaxed, splitting into a sharp grin. He extended a hand, visibly calloused and scarred but as lean and sinewy as the rest of him.</p>
<p>“Would you like me to show you?”</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0003"><h2>3. The Deal</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Summary for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
            <p>Kallos gives Aspen a gift. A bargain is struck.</p>
          </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>Aspen’s homeland was a tapestry of rolling hills and dense forests, sweeping farmland and grassy knolls dotted with clusters of quaint buildings and isolated homesteads. It only ended with the violent shores of the Crested Bay, its basalt bluffs and white-capped waves a contrasting, harsh blue against the autumnal tones of the valley. I showed her all I could, as much as the night would hold. I brought her to the northernmost point of the bay, and her eyes widened as she saw the tides move at my command. The skirt of the mountains to the west was next, at her request. The auroran spirits danced just to delight her, I didn’t even have to ask. The moon above us watched our excursion, unblinking and bright among the lacerations of stars around it. I returned her to the clearing, where I led her on foot to a hidden pool deeper in the forest that held the clearest waters this far north of the Springs of Alke. It was here that I watched her frolick, until the sun started to rise above us.</p>
<p>“I should return you home soon,” I called lazily to the back of Aspen’s head. She was knee-deep in the pond, trying to get a reluctant toad to hop into her open palms.</p>
<p>“I’ve only just begun exploring,” she brushed me off, giggling sweetly as the creature finally climbed into her calloused hands. She lifted it to her eyes, inspecting its pouting face and yellow-brown eyes with a wonder I had never seen the likes of before. “Nothing is stopping you from leaving me here.”</p>
<p>I shifted on the mossy patch of ground I had sunk onto, tossing a section of hair from my cheek and raising an eyebrow. She wasn’t paying attention. Instead, she had let the toad loose and was watching it bound from a swaying lilypad to the bank of the glittering pool. Her back was to me, and I allowed myself a long glance at her form under the ill-fitted gown she wore. Aspen’s hair was nearly down to her tailbone, glossy and red locks cascading in uneven waves down her back. Her shoulders were broad from farmwork, and her hips were once wide, but now sat at raw angles due to lack of nutrition. The skin peeking out from her kirtle was fair, with deep, sun-darkened freckles adorning her in patches where she didn’t guard her skin from the heat of the summer. When she looked back at me, her hazel eyes appeared more of a deep brown, complex and alluring under heavy, dark brows. </p>
<p>“I, uh…” being at a loss for words was not very becoming of me. I relaxed my brow, opting instead to grant a quick smile. “I have something for you.”</p>
<p>This got her attention, and she quickly wrung her skirts out before joining me on the bank of the pond. Sounds of the dawn were rising from the woods around us, and the sky had begun its change from black to purple as I invited her to sit next to me. Her scent filled the air as she thunked down, crossing her legs and tucking a stray hair behind her ear. I made a show of reaching behind me, though it was magic that pulled the bundle from what seemed to her like thin air. The magic that the wilds held was near limitless, so long as you know how to use it. A new gown sat folded in my hands, paired with a rigid but velvety pair of doeskin boots. I held the pile out for her to take, and her eyes widened.</p>
<p>“This is...for me?” she tried to politely bite down on a smile, but the corners of her lips still lifted enough to notice.</p>
<p>“I said I would give you anything you could wish for, so long as it was in my power to do so,” I reminded her of the deal we had yet to make. There were forces she couldn’t even fathom that demanded a match be made. If I didn’t push her now, she wouldn’t be able to choose later. For now, earthly gifts seemed to soften her up to the idea. Her smile was like sunlight as she inspected her fittings.</p>
<p>“I don’t...I’m not sure what to say...this is just…” She unfolded the bundle; the under layers were made of a matching off-white linen, and the overdress complimented her fiery hair - deep brown, with soft orange embroidery on the hem. It was something she would never be able to afford on her own. She pulled the stockings on first, ensuring the boots fit to her liking before inspecting the dress closer. Her eyes were glittering slightly, and I cleared my throat awkwardly as if it would somehow help.</p>
<p>“You’ll need the warmth for the winter, I can leave you with a cloak, as well-”</p>
<p>“Oh, winter, right,” she snapped back to reality for a brief moment, recalling something that I already knew. Her brother had died a few days before the harvest was finished, and she sold the entire crop without leaving any aside for herself. The supplies she had wouldn’t last the season. Perhaps she imagined I’d take her away from Falkbend, but truth be told, I had no palace or kingdom awaiting me. My home was within any forest or grotto, any untilled field and untouched peak. I had no temples, and no priests. My worship had been long forgotten by the time she was born, and she saw the sorrow it caused me in my face as I met her eyes. “You’re not going to take me with you, are you?”</p>
<p>“You’re safe in Falkbend, you have land and a bit of coin. I can help-”</p>
<p>“I won’t stay here,” Aspen snapped, slamming her hands into her lap defensively. I seemed to have touched a nerve. “I won’t be nannied by you, I will go where I please.”</p>
<p>“You’re not obligated to me,” I admitted, as casually as I could, leaning back on my palms as she huffed at me. Sunlight began to creep low through the treeline, and I focused my gaze towards the east as the light swelled. “You haven’t agreed to anything.”</p>
<p>She teetered for a moment, debating whether to snap at me or not. Instead of an answer, she rose to her feet. I briefly thought she was going to storm off, and was surprised when the sound of her kirtle hitting the ground met my ears instead of her whining. I whipped my head around to look just a moment too late, her bare skin already covered. The underdress I had given her fit perfectly, and she snatched the overdress off of the gravely bank just as her form came into focus. In the chill, her breasts perked up through the linen. I found it hard to ignore the baseline throbbing in my groin that had become a little more intense as I watched her dress.</p>
<p>“I carry your child, and then you leave me alone?” Aspen asked finally, eyes not on me, but facing down as she struggled with the lacing on her bodice. It was tangled in one of the eyelets, and I stood slowly to help her. At first, she slapped my hand away, but when I pulled the laces from her a second time, she dropped her arms to her sides. I tugged the braided cords tight against her chest, hunger gripping me as I came so close to feeling her bare skin against my hands. Despite her attitude, she almost ragdolled into each pull, until the bodice was laced and knotted at the top. I nodded finally, stepping about a foot back from her. She stepped forward.</p>
<p>“If that’s what you want, then yes.”</p>
<p>“If I agree, you won’t lock me away? I can go where I please?”</p>
<p>“Of course,” I must have sounded annoyed, because she scrunched her face up at me, taking another step forward. Our faces were a whisper apart.</p>
<p>“And if I don’t agree?”</p>
<p>“I find another, simple as that,” I lied.</p>
<p>Her dark eyes pierced mine with a ferocity of a predator. I wasn’t accustomed to feeling like prey.</p>
<p>“Fine. I...accept.”</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0004"><h2>4. The Artist</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Summary for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
            <p>Planning on leaving her village behind, Aspen sells the rest of her belongings with the intent of buying passage out of Falkbend. The local recluse introduces himself, presenting a unique opportunity.</p>
          </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>A kiss upon my knuckles and he was gone. The creaking walls of the farmhouse felt emptier than ever, mimicking the hollow feeling within my ribs. Would he come for me during the night? Would he wait until I was older? Would I be able to call him to me? I shivered; is that what I wanted? His company? The sun was well over the valley by the time I collapsed in my cot, heart pounding and hands shaking far too much to sleep. The disgruntled song of hungry animals finally pulled me out of bed around midday, after staring at the open rafters above my bed for hours.</p>
<p>After changing from the gown Kallos gifted me into my work clothes, I milked all three cows, tossing the heads of their curious offspring away from their mothers’ udders as I worked. I mucked the barn out, shaking manure from the bedding and tossing new straw down to keep the animals warm and dry. After tossing flakes of hay into the feeding troughs, I tended to the billy goat, who seemed to have chipped his horn to a point on something. A rough stone and an hour of filing took care of that, before I brushed him down and gave him an extra handful of feed for his bravery. In the cellar, cheese was still aging far back on the shelves that could be ready soon, and there were only a few jars of pickled vegetables that had gone off. Enough to keep me alive, but not enough to put any weight on me. I could send the cows for slaughter, and use the goats for milk, but the butcher would charge me double for an animal their age. I decided that I’d sell them all tomorrow, and use the money to book passage to Osthaven. If Kallos wouldn’t whisk me away as I’d hoped he did, I’d just have to do it myself.</p>
<p>Evening set in, keeping me company while I fed the embers in the hearth and put the kettle to boil over the new flames. My mood was bitter, but I was unsure whether it was exhaustion or frustration with Kallos. He hadn’t tricked me, nor did he threaten me. I agreed to his terms. I would bear his child. Children, if I was particularly unlucky. Male heirs were the only ones suitable to carry bloodlines for mortal kings, I wondered if this was true for gods as well. A knock on the door tore me from my moping as I fixed a tea late in the evening, followed by another after I had tried to ignore the first. I cursed under my breath, stomping over to the door and yanking it open to find a young boy wearing a courier’s red sash and brass pin shivering on my front porch, a bundle wrapped in burlap in his outstretched hands.</p>
<p>“Are you the lady of the house?” the mousy boy peeped, dense black curls plastered to his wide forehead with sweat. </p>
<p>“I am, and that there is the mail bin,” I chided, pointing at the post near the end of the property by the road.</p>
<p>“I was told to give this right to you, it came from a man down by the port. Said it was important.”</p>
<p>I plucked the package from his arms and tossed him a copper coin from my apron for his time. He turned to leave, before pivoting on his heel and lifting a finger just as I was about to shut the cold out.</p>
<p>“Oh, right - the physician has asked for his books back. He says you’re two weeks late in returning them,” with that, the postboy hopped down the steps and started at a sprint for the main road, holding his little flat cap to his head as he ran. I shut and locked the door, before inspecting the package for a name or stamp. I couldn’t remember if my brother had put an order in for anything, but this didn’t look like anything he had received before. It was only when I opened it to a single aspen leaf resting upon a bundle of brown fabric that I knew who had sent it. A cloak that matched my new gown unfolded as I tugged it by the hood, flawlessly fitting across my shoulders and just barely grazing the ground when I tried it on. Kallos had forgotten to give it to me earlier that day, I suppose. It was lined with some sort of soft wool, and instantly warmed me as I wrapped it closer to myself. Perhaps it was magic, but it smelled of him too.</p>
<p>I slept heavily through the night, only waking as the sun flooded through the foggy window of my bedroom. The wind brought with it deep, purplish-grey clouds from over the strait, the air heavy on my face as I slipped my boots on under my new fittings, swinging the cloak over my shoulders and making for the town proper. No doubt due to Samika’s wicked gossiping, I was met with more stares than usual as the muddy road turned to cobblestone. Falkbend’s unimpressive town square unfolded in front of me, and I took a left directly into the apothecary to return the borrowed tomes before heading to the beastmaster’s stall in the market. This was the simplest of errands, and yet, the cosmos interfered once again. I ran headlong into a man in a crisp wool capelet, my nose crinkling as I bumped directly into his chest.</p>
<p>“Oh- I’m so sorry, excuse me-” I bumbled, barely regaining my grip on the small stack of leather volumes I had just procured from under my arm. The stranger, face shadowed by the wide-brimmed hat perched on his blond head, steadied them back into my hands with his own gloved ones. A warm, charming smile appeared as I thanked him.</p>
<p>“Not to worry, I was in my own head. All my fault,” his voice sounded like the plucking of  a harp; a sound so rich yet so airy, I felt as if I’d see stars. “I hope I didn’t do too much damage.”</p>
<p>I smiled nervously as he chuckled, trying to weave around him to get to the depths of the dimly-lit apothecary, its teetering shelves and strange smells wafting from the kettle over the hearth visible just behind his slim shoulders. He didn’t let me pass. I wondered if my newly-acquainted immortal had decided to visit me again, so I met the man’s eyes with my own narrowed ones. Not Kallos’ bright, burning gold, but a soft blue instead. I still wasn’t sure.</p>
<p>“I’d be honored to know you proper, after you’ve finished your errand,” curiosity got the better of me as the stranger stood aside, his slender nose bowing towards the floor politely as I passed him by. I plopped the books on the counter, to which the physician scowled, before noting their safe return and sending me on my way. I exited the shop’s grim atmosphere to the crisp air of the town centre, where the stranger was waiting just outside. In the shy sunlight and out of the cramped apothecary, I had a good look at him. He was handsome, though perhaps more manicured than any other man I had seen pass through Falkbend. It was clear that he didn’t belong here, by his crisp blouse that was finished with a silk cravat and slender trousers made of a dense fabric that looked nothing like cotton, and his legs finishing in pointed leather boots that had not a scuff nor a spot on them. His hair was pulled into a low bun at the back of his neck, but still shone like harvested wheat in the midday sun. On his head, he wore a felted wool hat with a wide brim that cast a shadow on his fine features, topped off with a bundle of feathers tucked into the leather band upon it. His capelet was wool, but somehow softer than any garment I had ever seen of its like. It was a fine, deep red that reminded me of pomegranate seeds. I was staring.</p>
<p>“Shall I accompany you?” The request was polite, if not a little odd. The men who lived here were calloused and rather rude, whereas this particular stranger was like a painting come to life. I accepted silently hooking my arm through his as he offered.</p>
<p>“My name is Hana Vedaste, I’m an artist by trade, though I suppose to you I’m just a very strange man that is dragging you by the arm, confining you to the social construct of politeness,” Hana cleared his throat, chuckling at his own words. I looked at anything but him as we made our way into the bustle of the market. Today marked the month’s end, so the stalls were packed full with produce, bolts of cloth, various tools and household items, as well as freshly-tailored tunics and newly-cobbled leather boots, all to sell before the first snowfall. The sounds of merchants calling to customers and housewives bargaining mounted as we reached the thick of the crowd, and I spotted the stall of the beastmaster just past the well.</p>
<p>“My name is Aspen,” I responded rather absently, still not looking at him as I pulled the deeds to my animals from my apron pocket. Hana followed my leaning towards the stall, and waited patiently as I unhooked my arm from his and approached the vendor behind the stall counter. He was bald, with a permanently furrowed brow like a thick, angry-looking black caterpillar. I handed him the deeds, to which he grumbled something before counting out my coin. It wasn’t as much as I had hoped for, but it was enough to pay a peddler to get me far from Falkbend. When I approached the comely Mr. Vedaste after my business was done with, he graced me with a solemn smile.</p>
<p>“Pleasure to meet you, though by the looks of it our friendship will be brief.”</p>
<p>I joined him at a walk once again, arm in arm, as we escaped the throngs of the market together.</p>
<p>“Why do you say that?”</p>
<p>“You looked rather disappointed with that meagre amount of coin, is all. Not enough for a ship’s passage, though maybe someone might take kindly on your sad little face.”</p>
<p>“Do you plan on explaining why you’ve accompanied me on my errands, or would you like to continue insulting me?” I felt like a cat that had arched its back at its own reflection. Truth be told, attention from someone who wasn’t a mysterious immortal whose domain had faded into obscurity was rather refreshing. I added a polite laugh to attempt to save any feelings I might have hurt.</p>
<p>“Not an insult, more of a jest at your expense,” Hana enjoyed the banter, as was evident by his growing smile. His olive skin was that of someone from the southern part of the province, not this far north, I was certain. “I was wondering if you and I might be just what the other needs.”</p>
<p>“Do go on,” I mimicked his high-born vocabulary. There was an elegance to him that made me want to match it. I lifted my chin a bit, wondering what Samika would say about this very public display, usually reserved for courtship. It struck me that my fittings are now much nicer than hers, which produced a subconscious smirk.</p>
<p>“Before I begin, I want to assure you my intentions are completely appropriate,” we walked together towards the north exit of town, and the cobble beneath our boots was blending with the dirt just up ahead. “I am curious if you would like to share my accomodations with me. I’m in need of a second pair of hands around my lodgings, and I imagine you’re also in need of steady pay. I think an arrangement would do us both some good, that is, if you’d stay in Falkbend for longer than a few more days.”</p>
<p>I thought for a moment, before speaking up.</p>
<p>“Live as your maid?” I recoiled slightly, remembering how Anya had her own maid publicly flogged the day after her wedding for purchasing the wrong kind of wine. Hana scoffed playfully, taking a slow step forward before turning to me. He towered over me by a head or so, and his large hat blocked out the sun behind him.</p>
<p>“Not as a maid, darling, more of a…housemate, of sorts. You and I will share the duties that I’ve been shouldering on my own, and I’ll give you say, weekly wages? As well as your own room and board.”</p>
<p>“And where exactly do you live, Mr. Vedaste?” I spoke slowly, already knowing the answer.</p>
<p>“Winnoc Estate is mine by inheritance. I had an awful uncle with no children, so the grounds belong to me,” Hana almost sounded amused, were it not for the worried look on his dainty face.</p>
<p>“The townsfolk say all sorts of strange things about you,” I tested his patience, glancing up the hill, towards the chateau that sat at the top. Even from here, it looked unkempt - like an heirloom left to collect dust on a parlor shelf. “They say there must be a reason why you’re rarely seen outside of the grounds.”</p>
<p>“And they say you bedded your brother, and that you were snatched from your crib as a babe and replaced with a changeling that sucked the blood from each of your kin until they were white as a sheet. Though there is a reason why I barely leave the estate - the people here are quite unbearable.”</p>
<p>I wanted to cry, or scream, or crumple onto the ground until I decomposed. I didn’t, instead just keeping the strange man’s eyes for a silent moment. Hana's deadpan stare cracked into a snort, followed by a bawdy laugh just as mine did. We stood together at the end of the road, cackling like witches at our own strangeness. Opportunity had struck me for the second time, and I felt its current flow through me as my laugh faded to a hard-earned smile.</p>
<p>“Very well, Hana Vedaste, I accept your terms.”</p>
<p>Hana returned the grin, his face warm and welcoming. My heart swelled slightly, finding comfort in his flushed cheeks and kind eyes. The wind began to play in the crisp folds of his capelet before he spoke.</p>
<p>“How exciting! You and I will be the talk of this shithole soon enough. I suppose you’ll be going to fetch your things, I’ll need directions for my horseman to retrieve you…”</p>
<p>I stopped listening for just a moment as Hana began to blabber, focused instead on the estate some half a league up the northern slope of the valley. The wind changed directions forcefully, pulling my hair from flat against my back towards the western edge of town, where the sun had begun its descent towards the far mountains. The artist clasped his gloved hands together, eyes like slivers of a clear sky under fair brows as he beamed down at me, a promise of change within them.</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0005"><h2>5. The Lesson</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Summary for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
            <p>Aspen and winter have both settled in at Winnoc. Kallos draws her out of the manor with a gift, and teaches her how to use it.</p>
          </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>Winter arrived quickly and quietly. I tended to the trees and the underbrush, and to the creatures within them, ensuring that there was a place for every field mouse and garden snake. Snow blanketed the valley soon after Aspen encountered the artist, Vedaste. I had much to do, but I stole whatever time I could watching her through the glass of the chateau’s greenhouse as she tended to the plants inside, or sat in the window with a journal in-hand, scribbling onto the paper in between bouts of thought. I wish I could read what she wrote; I could pull a storm from nothing and raise forests from a single seed, but it never occurred to me that I would one day have a use for learning how to read. I tried regardless, after a month of pondering what my next boon would be, before finally scrawling something legible. I sent it off in the usual way, waiting for the post to arrive at the manor like a giddy schoolboy. This time, I had outdone myself.</p><p>I created a creature that matched the color of her hair and the stubbornness of her character. It resembled a draught horse, but was just a touch more slender. It was a deep chestnut color, with a matching mane and a blaze of white down its long face. I made sure to consider her height when creating the beast, but not so much so that she’ll outgrow him. The stallion and I waited in a clearing closer to her new lodgings, both unbothered by the freezing wind as it came in off the sea. Light snowflakes began to fall, most catching on the canopy of evergreens overhead, glittering in the waning sunlight. The sound of snow crunching under boots woke me from my musing.</p><p>“Was this your attempt at directions?” Aspen’s voice cut through the stiff air, the sound insulated by the snow. It was bolder than we last spoke, but that was more likely because she didn’t look pleased to see me.</p><p>“You arrived safely, so not a total failure,” my attempt at wit hit her like a brick wall, and withered subsequently.</p><p>“What do you want?” the girl demanded, flaming red hair hidden under the hood of the cloak I had made her. Her strong face was in full view, brows furrowed and cheeks ruddy in the cold.</p><p>“I have something for you, I figured this might make your new home a little less daunting to explore,” I gestured to the horse, who was idly digging around with his nose in the fresh snow for a patch of grass to rip up. Aspen raised her eyebrows, before dropping them again.</p><p>“Is this meant to make up for the fact that you nearly let me starve?” she hissed, staying at the mouth of the clearing instead of approaching. Admittedly, I thought the gift would soften her up as it did before.</p><p>“I can teach you how to ride, if that’s the problem.”</p><p>“Did you hear what I said? If it weren’t for Hana-”</p><p>“You would still be in your family’s farmhouse, with enough coin to-”</p><p>“What if I had been robbed? Would you have protected my honor? What if the taxman had called on me? What if I had fallen ill? Gifts and meagre coin won’t solve those kinds of problems…”</p><p>I saw her point. I didn’t anticipate this becoming me apologizing to her. Despite her anger, she did come closer, passing me by completely to approach the stallion. He lifted his proud head at her, nickering softly as she held out a half-gloved hand for him to sniff. I watched her as she patted his neck, inspected his ears, and then began scratching under his chin, to which he relaxed his eyes and leaned into her touch. I will not be jealous of a horse. I cleared my throat.</p><p>“I...hadn’t thought of it like that,” I began, to which she immediately scoffed.</p><p>“Why won’t you just take me and be done with it? I’ve got other things to do than listen to you try and make this easier for me.”</p><p>“Do you forget who you’re speaking to?” I stood from the large rock I was leaning against, crossing my arms over my chest as she turned her back to me.</p><p>“Hard not to, seeing as you’ve not visited once since you asked so nicely to put a baby in me. Shall we do it in the snow? Would you like me on all fours, my lord?” Aspen mocked me, before patting the stallion’s thick neck as she cooed at him. Her hood blocked my view of her face even as she turned to look over her shoulder at my reaction. I exhaled, a slow pillar of my breath visible in the cold air.</p><p>“What would you like me to do?” I asked finally, dreading her answer. She considered for a moment, as she always does, before turning to face me. Her smile was a surprising sight, seeing as her tone was not as welcoming.</p><p>“Will you teach me how to ride?”</p><p>The hour passed quickly as I covered the basics. I patiently explained how to sit, how to get the beast to walk, how to slow and stop. She was a natural, even without the usual leather tack that would otherwise be needed, with any other horse but this one; the stallion and the girl got along instantly. As I watched her trot around the snowy clearing with a wide smile emblazoned upon her mousy face, I couldn’t help but wonder if gifts would be enough to keep her civil. She fully expects me to surprise her when it comes time to perform the duty we agreed on, whether she consents or not. I tried to imagine what that would make her feel, but she’s puzzled me in more ways than one. For instance, she pretends not to have been caught staring at me, and insists that she wasn’t staring. Then, I’ll catch her doing it again, her deep brown eyes wide and curious as she takes in my clothes, or the markings on my skin. In the meantime, she acts as if she wants nothing to do with me. I was perplexed, even more so when she kissed me goodbye.</p><p>“I have to head home,” she announced as she slid down the stallion’s side and onto the soggy ground. “Hana is expecting me.”</p><p>I blinked a few times, not recognizing the name until I recalled the willowy mortal that owned the grounds. Vedaste was an ancient family name, one I remember even my father mentioning when I was a boy. I nodded down to Aspen, who plucked the gloves I was holding for her from my absent hands. After slipping them back onto her slender fingers, she used my crossed forearms as leverage to pull herself up to my height, planting a soft kiss on my bottom lip before I could react. My heart jumped up onto my throat.</p><p>“This was very thoughtful of you,” she blushed, letting go of my bare arms and making towards the exit of the grove, “even if you are a bit of a dobber.”</p><p>Just like that, she was gone, clicking her tongue to get her steed to follow. I was a bit taken aback, and I only came-to fast enough to call after her as she hopped through the thickening blanket of snow on the forest floor.</p><p>“What’s a dobber?!” I hollered at the back of her head, watching her go with her stallion in tow. I only got a laugh in response, the sweetest and most mischievous of sounds bouncing off of the near-endless clusters of trees around us. I watched until the flaming red of her hair was out of sight, and the thunking of hooves had disappeared. Late afternoon fell on the grounds of Winnoc, and I reluctantly returned to work.</p>
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<a name="section0006"><h2>6. The Book</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Summary for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
            <p>Aspen stumbles upon a relevant passage in an old book while tidying Hana's study. Kallos pays a visit late in the evening.</p>
          </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>“It’s a ridiculous name.”</p><p>“No, it isn’t! It’s perfect.”</p><p>“It’s a horse!”</p><p>“Yes, a very smart horse,” I corrected Hana, prodding my spoon at him over the solid oak dining table. He sat cross-legged on one of the matching high-backed chairs, elbows leaning on either side of his bowl of stew. I had gone hunting earlier that day, and a very unfortunate rabbit ended up on the menu. </p><p>“Auste of Cyrros was one of the most brilliant mathematicians of his time, no doubt the sole reason why the Southern Isles resisted a dark age when the north nearly crumbled! He explored concepts your pretty little head couldn’t even dream of, and you want to name a stray horse after him?”</p><p>“He’s hardly a stray,” I looked away from his face, fearing what Hana would think of my deal with Kallos. “He’s nearly taller than you, and he’s far from starving.”</p><p>“If someone comes looking for him, you must return him. I can’t have a lawman showing up at my door, gods only know what they would do to us both if they found my laboratory.”</p><p>He was right, but luckily there was no worry of anyone coming to collect Auste. The evening I returned with him to the estate, he obeyed like a loyal hound when I backed him into an empty stall in the barn, settling him next to Hana’s horse, a mare named Olga with stout little legs and a charming blue-roan coat. Winnoc Estate kept more secrets than the townsfolk could ever dream up, one of the largest of which was a workshop devoted to somatic magics. Shelves upon shelves of illegal ingredients, strange brass contraptions and a variety of secular altars littered the space, surrounded by towers of books, various candelabras, and cluttered lecterns. Hana had shown it to me after my first week living with him, after he nearly blew off his own hand with a rather powerful explosive powder he was working on. After I bandaged him up and soothed his sobbing, he agreed to allow me to peruse the laboratory at my leisure, though I had no interest in his studies. He spent evenings there while I wandered the old library, and during the day, we would find time to work in his studio in between bouts of repairing the old chateau. It was a bright few months, the two of us frolicking in the halls of the manor, sweeping and repainting old rooms, removing vines from the floor of the ballroom and hunting down mice that had made their home in the more neglected areas of the library. I had almost forgotten about Kallos, as much as I could anyway, when an old tome surfaced from within a large, dusty stack of books in the laboratory one evening.</p><p>“Recollections of Bondage and Servitude: Volume Seven,” I read aloud, barely containing my snickering as Hana poured over his workbench, carefully stuffing dry herbs into a bottle with a particularly small neck. “I suppose I never asked about your...personal proclivities.”</p><p>“Aren’t you just hilarious?” he snapped back, playfully but with the tone of someone whose mind was elsewhere. “Why don’t you actually read it before you make such assumptions? It’s actually quite a fascinating subject, deities and such…”</p><p>My heart skipped, forgetting to function for a moment. I hastily cracked the spine of the hefty book and was met with a small poof of dust. Inside were neat chapters outlining similarities between domains, belief systems, and practices under gods that I hadn’t even heard the names of. I flipped hungrily, wondering if a description would remind me of him. Realizing I was standing awkwardly in the midst of Hana’s chaotic experiments, I excused myself from the eastern wing of the house. I drifted along the hallways lined with gaudy ancestral paintings and dusty accent tables with the tome tucked safely under my arm. To my right was a wall of windows two stories tall, stretching all the way up to the vaulted ceiling that capped the corridor off elegantly. Sheer linen drapes framed each of the chateau’s grand windows, allowing moonlight to pour into the space and onto the stone floor. By now, I was used to the manor’s grand, castle-like features and echoing ambience. I marched up the curving grand staircase once I reached the foyer, bidding goodnight to the only other soul besides Hana and I who lived here, a footman named Conleth.</p><p>My bedroom was more of an apartment. I had never had lodgings so fine, and I only despaired over selling the old farmhouse up until I laid eyes upon my rooms for the first time. The floors were a deep hardwood, the color of black truffles and glossy underneath a smattering of plush, if not a little faded, woven rugs. My bed stood against the north wall of the bedroom directly across from the double doors that lead from the hallway, and more doors leading to the bath and study respectively stood on the west and east sides of the room. The plaster walls were covered in old tapestries and paintings, and my bedding matched the powder blue paint. In between the entrance and the bed was a sitting area, complete with overstuffed sofas and matching armchairs. A fireplace accented the eastern wall, just before the door to the study. I kept a fire going around the clock just to warm the place, and so before I plopped down on the couch with the book, I tossed a log on from the adjacent pile, stoking it until it crackled happily within the stone hearth.</p><p>The contents of the book were a little puzzling, seeing as I had the seventh volume in my hands without reading the previous six. The author wrote about complex rituals, suitable offerings, similarities between different cultures’ gods and reasoning for why they might be worshipping the same deity under different names. I skipped over the complicated philosophical stuff, losing interest once I reached discussion about the downfalls of depictions in modern art versus a deity’s original description. One thing that did strike me though, is that they referred to some deities as “patrons,” of mortals. I investigated the index at the back of the book, flipping to a relevant page and making a discovery that made my stomach drop.</p><p>
  <em>While not the most reliable of sources, one consistent form of recollection of a deity’s true appearance lies with a fortunate few mortals that claim to have experienced intimate relations with an immortal, most often by force - there have been a select few accounts of consensual relations of this nature, though this may be speculation and should be considered an outlier when referring to it thus. A select few immortals, notably Kratos of the Cyrroan Pantheon in recent history, have taken patronage with a mortal, providing them with offspring, and even an arrangement not unsimilar to marriage with its own unique terms agreed upon by both parties. If testimony from such seemingly fortunate individuals is to be believed, a god becomes a patron in order to sanctify a bloodline. To what end this accomplishes for such a powerful being, we as scholars may never fully understand. One similarity holds true for every account of patronage in written history: a permanent mark or seal is left upon the victim, varying in nature from culture to culture, or even between two separate domains. This mark is irreplicable by mortals in nature, much like an injury from a manticore or holy weapon.This is considered, among simplified circles, concrete evidence of an agreement between man and divine.</em>
</p><p>Fear struck me like a cannon, with a realization in tow. I devoured the words like a starving urchin, guiding my eyes with the point of my finger along the aging parchment. If this were true, was a verbal agreement enough? Or were Kallos’ words just that, meaningless and designed to manipulate me? I shuddered at the thought of his mark upon my skin, afraid suddenly of the pool of warmth blossoming in my lower abdomen. Is that what I wanted? Wouldn’t he have just taken what he wanted by now, if this were all a ruse? I shook my head, snapping the book shut and uncurling from my spot on the plush armchair. After a day of returning stray books around the chateau to their respective shelves, I would not rob myself of a well-earned rest. I tucked the book under my arm and flew down the hallway, down the stairs and back towards the east wing. Instead of heading straight into the lab, I hung a right through an archway and came out of a short corridor into the library hall. It was the most grand room in the entire manor, with massive, paneled walls that reached three full stories tall, covered in shelves and ladders that lead up to them as far as the eye could see. More shelves formed rows on either side of the room, sorted by subject and then alphabetically. I glanced down at the spine of the book as I made my way to the shelf devoted to religious iconography, noting a surname beginning with an “E,” the letters beyond which were worn off.</p><p>“It’s getting late,” a familiar voice appeared behind me. I stopped dead, the final click of my boot echoing across the polished hardwood.</p><p>“Dare I ask how you got in here?” I wheeled around. Kallos chuckled, narrowing his golden eyes for just a moment. He wore a loose, draping sort of robe that revealed a sliver of his skin down the centre of his chest. It looked as if it may have been white at one point, but was now dyed a muted green. A belt of braided leather wrapped around his waist, and the sleeves came to a slender cuff at the wrist to reveal lithe, heavily tattooed fingers. His usual mess of brown hair reached his shoulders this time, crowned by a pair of jagged antlers.</p><p>“The footman doesn’t lock the door through the kitchens until he completes his last round for the night. It was quite tempting, not that I needed an excuse.”</p><p>He stepped forward, silent as death as he closed the gap between us almost as if he was floating. My heart threatened to escape through my mouth.</p><p>“If you’re seen here-”</p><p>“I’m sure your friend won’t tell,” Kallos cooed, not bothering to hide the fact that his eyes were following the lines of my bare arms down to my hands, and back up towards the exposed collarbones. I swallowed hard. “I have no intention of hurting you.”</p><p>“A-are you here to mark me?” My voice quivered, causing Kallos to freeze in his tracks, eyes snapping up to mine.</p><p>“Where, I wonder, did you get that idea?” the immortal slinked forward, circling me once while I stammered.</p><p>“I-I f-found...erm, a book,” a low rumble erupted from Kallos’ full lips, halfway between a laugh and a growl, “it talks ab...about, ritualistic, uhm, agreements b-between-”</p><p>“Between gods and mortals?” he nearly cackled, facing me once again with naught a whisper between us as he towered over me. I crumpled under the sight of him, pressing the tome in my hands to my chest as if it would protect me. “Only the weakest of us would sink so low as to draw mortal blood for such purposes. It’s...unbecoming.”</p><p>I shivered at the smell of his breath as he exhaled, like smoke and crushed herbs. Cursing at the betrayal my body lended, I pulled the book further into myself to dull the feeling of my breasts perking up. He looked down as I shifted, my knees folding inwards slightly.</p><p>“You are a perplexing creature,” he purred, lips curling up to reveal his pointed teeth. “You act as if you want nothing to do with me, but I can see by the way you hold yourself, that is not the case.”</p><p>“I have to return this book before retiring,” I composed myself, ignoring his implications but still breathing heavily as the heat from his body met my own, “you will excuse me until you learn some manners.”</p><p>“Will I?”</p><p>I turned on my heel, blood ripping through my body as I made for the correct shelf. I felt his eyes on me and his presence close behind as I turned down the aisle, consulting the small brass tags on the shelf to find the appropriate spot for the volume I still had pressed against my chest.</p><p>“You will,” I scolded, prying two equally ancient books apart to squeeze the third between them. I turned again on my heel, finding his face inches away from mine. as I made for the exit. “Or else.”</p><p>“Or else?” Kallos’ jaw dropped slightly, before tightening just as I swerved around him to head for the doors.</p><p>“I’ll…I’ll refuse,” I bluffed, calling over my shoulder as I trotted away from him. “I won’t let you have me, seeing as you could just pick someone else.”</p><p>“We agreed-”</p><p>“You’ve been buttering me up with gifts since we met, doing nothing but that and attempting- no, failing to frighten me-”</p><p>As I passed an aisle about halfway towards the exit, two strong hands snatched me mid-step and pulled me sideways into the cramped space between the shelves. I narrowly dodged a tower of books that had yet to be sorted through, whimpering slightly as Kallos’ magic pinned me up against a wooden ladder meant for retrieving volumes from higher shelves. He appeared from thin air, his physical hands replacing the ghostly ones I felt around my hips. My chest rose and fell rapidly as silence fell in the hall, our eyes digging into the others’ with equal ferocity from a whisper apart.</p><p>“You will learn respect,” Kallos warned, his voice losing all semblance of playfulness as he held me still, “or I will succeed in frightening you.”</p><p>“What could you do to me that you already haven’t promised to do? You say you won’t harm me, and yet-”</p><p>“You…” his golden eyes narrowed, dark locks falling around his chiseled face, “...you want me to mark you, don’t you?”</p><p>My heart stopped for what felt like the umpteenth time that evening. I curled my lip into a snarl, feeling him tighten his grip on my hipbones through the dress he had given me months prior. An unfamiliar wetness pooled in between the crux of my thighs.</p><p>“You continue to puzzle me, Aspen of Ossingard…” was the last whisper from his lips before they met mine. His kiss was far from gentle, and in between them, he groaned as I returned his affection. Throwing my hands around his neck, I brought my legs up to balance them on his lean hips as my dress began to slip up my thighs, baring myself to the mercy of the bulge I began to feel just below his abdomen. He moaned into my mouth, kissing me harder and migrating his hands from my hips down to the sides of my thighs to hold me better. My nipples were aching, and particularly sensitive as they brushed against his chest, and I let out an involuntary sigh just as he felt them through my kirtle.</p><p>“Undo the laces,” he whispered, nearly frantically as his kisses moved from my mouth, along my jaw and towards the crook between my ear and neck. I yelped quietly as I did what I was told, fumbling with the lacing of my gown just as Kallos nipped hard at my earlobe. The dress loosened and fell away from my underclothes, only a thin layer of linen standing between my chest and his wandering mouth. He lifted a hand, trying to tug the underdress out of the way, quickly losing his patience and tearing the fabric with one quick pull towards my navel. My breasts spilled out, despite my protests, and his hand returned to my arse as he stopped for a moment to look down at them. He ran his tongue across his teeth as he took in the sight, my nipples perky in the cold and freckled skin covered in goosebumps. He adjusted his grip, pushing me harder against the shelf behind me.</p><p>“You must be of my own creation,” he growled, playful tone returning to his words as a smile pulled at the corners of his mouth, “not a freckle out of place…”</p><p>I gasped loudly as his lips descended on my right breast, finding my nipple with his teeth and lapping at it, before biting down like a teething calf. I yelped again, to which he slammed his hand over my mouth, allowing his index finger to sink towards my tongue and rest hard there as if he were scolding a hound. I moaned around it, closing my lips in a pout around the girth of his finger and closing my eyes with a flutter of my lashes. The sensation of him exploring my skin was like none other, and when the weight of his body against mine, as well as his hand against my mouth and his lips on my chest all disappeared simultaneously, I felt as if a part of me had gone with him.</p><p>“Hnnhmm…” I managed, feeling as if I was waking from a euphoric dream, eyes drooping as I tried to open them.</p><p>“Be still,” his voice drifted from somewhere close yet far away, though I could still sense his warmth somewhere close, “I will teach you this lesson only once - I would part the seas for you, as promised...”</p><p>I finally grounded myself, finding myself pressed up against the shelf ladder, breasts exposed to the chilled air of the library and alone in the dark. A burning sensation in my belly caused my legs to wobble.</p><p>“...in exchange, you belong to me.”</p>
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<a name="section0007"><h2>7. The Muse</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Summary for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
            <p>Aspen helps Hana with a project. Kallos looks on from afar, conflicted about the last time he and Aspen had spoken.</p>
          </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>I feared I had done too much damage, so I stayed away. Unlike my father, I don’t have a temper. He would leave my mother at the cusp of death, especially if she had spoken to him with anything but reverence. I possessed something most of my peers didn’t, in fact: a guilty conscience. Months dripped away, winter deepened and stilled like a forgotten bottle atop a shelf. I swore to myself that I would leave her be, until she was ready, but longing and curiosity created an intricate hunger inside of me, keeping me company through the dregs of the season. In a late afternoon sometime before the first melts of the season, I crept up to the slender, cluttered windows of the estate house, invisible to the untrained eye and flowing along in the gentle wind. Condensation beaded down the dull glass, heathering my view of the flourishing plant life just beyond. Exotic flora from all reaches of the world swayed in an enchanted wind, tendrils and branches reaching for the sparse sunlight above, some even flowered despite the dead winter just outside; the array of plant life was an oasis that I often found Aspen frolicking in. Today, she was accompanied by her strange housefellow, the artist named Hana Vedaste.</p><p>“Is that comfortable, darling?” his voice like watered silk drifted to my sensitive ears, though I couldn’t see him through the tangle of greenery from where I stood.</p><p>“Not terribly, but I will survive,” Aspen drawled, having picked up Vedaste’s posh tone sometime during their time together. “I wouldn’t mind dropping my arm a touch, though.”</p><p>I rearranged my view, sliding further towards the rounded head of the greenhouse and past a rather large philodendron bush and peering over its broad leaves. The scene I discovered was the most enchanting moment I had ever laid eyes upon. Aspen was sat upon a high-backed satin chair, its intricate wooden details framing her body as she posed daintily. A crimson gown of rich, heavy satin draped around her as if she was sitting in flowing water, its bodice tight to her waist and gathered sleeves leaving her shoulders completely bare, slipping off and down her arm and leaving the gown just barely covering her chest. She was no longer as thin as she was months ago, and her freckled skin glowed as she breathed slowly, lips plump and eyes a dangerous combination of sultry and solemn. She held a bouquet of bright flowers cradled in her lap, framed by her left arm gracefully resting on the arm of the chair, and her right arm was raised to dangle an ornate gold necklace from a single finger. Her hair drew the eye from her pink cheeks, down to the curve of her shoulders and ending in waves along her arms, waving loosely all the way. I swallowed hard, making sure to concentrate on staying hidden. To let her see me would take her away from the moment she was in - striking and vibrant against the backdrop of greenery.</p><p>“Well, adjust before I go any further. I don’t very well feel like fixing that later, I’d like to have this done by the month’s end,” Hana’s upper body was hidden by a large canvas leant up against a set of wooden supports, but his bare feet and paint-smattered trousers were visible through the legs of the eisel. He stretched his right leg out, before folding it again. I imagined an old injury was bothering him as he sat for lengthy periods.</p><p>“How is that?” The words slinked out of Aspen’s painted lips as she rested her elbow on the arm of the seat.</p><p>“Magnificent,” Hana’s smile was audible in his response; I watched as he shifted slightly behind his canvas. “Do you like the flowers?”</p><p>“Are you trying to say that you don’t like them?”</p><p>“Yes, that is exactly what I’m saying. They make your complexion look dreadful. Hmm…” Vedaste rose from his seat, plucking the bouquet from Aspen’s still lap and tossing it comically past his shoulder. She snorted through closed lips, struggling to keep her expression the way it was. “I have an idea, I will return shortly - don’t you dare move, darling, or I’ll have to kill you in your sleep!”</p><p>Vedaste took off towards the large, finely wrought doors of the greenhouse and into the west wing of the house. Despite her efforts, she burst into a fit of giggles as the padding of his feet revealed he must have been practically leaping away from his work station. Her smile settled on her pretty face, before returning to the fashionable half-scowl. I resisted the urge to slink in through the cracked window near where I hid, instead opting to exhale a warm breeze through the sliver of space, one that smelled of pine and fresh herbs. If she noticed, she didn’t react, and within a few heartbeats, our moment alone was over. Hana bounded back into the greenhouse, and Aspen raised an eyebrow at the object clasped in his hands.</p><p>“A sword?”</p><p>“Indeed! It may just be my second-best idea to date.”</p><p>“What is the first?”</p><p>“Ah, yes, just let me…”</p><p>Hana placed the sheathed blade in Aspen’s lap temporarily, switching his focus to the skirts of her gown. He tapped her shin, helping her lift the layers away from her bare leg, before guiding her body to twist and placing her naked foot upon the arm of the chair. He rearranged the skirt to drape perfectly over her shin, leaving the ankle exposed. Jealousy was an inappropriate reaction, perhaps, but it crept up on me all the same. Aspen, now posed with her right elbow resting on her thigh, raised her other eyebrow and dropped the opposite one.</p><p>“Absolutely striking...” Vedaste mused, stroking his chin absently. “...oh, right, yes-”</p><p>The sword was unsheathed and placed in her relaxed left hand, its point touching the ground and the fuller gleaming in the late afternoon sunlight.</p><p>“Surely, you’re joking,” Aspen chided, glancing down at her new pose. Hana shook his head.</p><p>“Not even a little bit, dearest. You look ravishing-”</p><p>“You don’t think this is a little bit… wanton?”</p><p>“Isn’t that what makes it delicious? Like a good wine, or a quiche…”</p><p>“Did you just compare me to a quiche?” Aspen laughed incredulously, nearly breaking the pose.</p><p>“Shall I call you a boiled egg instead? May I continue with my work now, or will you complain until my paints dry?”</p><p>After some snickering, Aspen composed herself and posed dutifully. I listened to the sound of the stiff brushes dragging across the canvas, mingling with the breeze that drifted off of the bay as the evening settled in. The artist worked well into the night, the moon well past the horizon by the time he was satisfied with his work. Aspen relaxed as soon as she was given leave to, and nearly galloped over to see the progress he had made.</p><p>“It’s far from done, but your job is finished for now, I’ll have to wait for the layer to dry before-”</p><p>Aspen squealed excitedly, curls bouncing as she wrapped her arms around a surprised Vedaste. He patted her head gently, smiling down at her before she released her grip. I circled around to get a better view, peering at the canvas between two large tufts of foliage. Rough swaths of colour danced across the fabric, blocking out the basic shapes and framing the nearly-finished depiction of her face - complete with soft brown eyes and tiny blossoms of freckles on her cheeks</p><p>“It’s wonderful, Hana,” she blinked slowly, “thank you.”</p><p>“No, thank you, my dear,” he cupped her face gently, patting her cheek not unlike a kindly aunt. “You’ll need your rest, run along. Give the gown to Conleth, he’ll be sure to put it away properly.”</p><p>She did as he instructed, lifting the satin away from the stone floor below her and starting with a leap towards the house.</p><p>“Carefully!” The artist called to her, and I chuckled quietly, knowing the feeling well. She didn’t listen completely, only slowing down until she was through the doors and around the corner. I watched her go, as did Vedaste, before drifting away from the greenhouse and towards the frigid wilds of the grounds. My pulse surged as I resumed a human form, far from the chateau now as the still night engulfed me and the trees surrounding me. The forests here were old, vastly untouched by the village nestled within the valley below. I would keep the trees company, and they would do the same for me, until the spring swept Ossingard, and Aspen outgrew the sprawling grounds that kept her safe.</p>
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